


The Princess and the Thief

by HellNHighHeels



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, In which River is out for the night and the Doctor is in way over his head, Time Babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellNHighHeels/pseuds/HellNHighHeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a time when a sudden ear shattering shriek and a loud crash would have sent him charging into the next room, ready to fight off vampires or Daleks or Christmas trees on a murderous rampage. But now it just makes him give an exasperated sigh and shout, "Be nice to your sister!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Princess and the Thief

**Author's Note:**

> To the anon who came into my ask box saying my tags made them sad, DON'T BE SAD! Have time baby fic instead :)

There was a time when a sudden ear shattering shriek and a loud crash would have sent him charging into the next room, ready to fight off vampires or Daleks or Christmas trees on a murderous rampage. But now it just makes him give an exasperated sigh and shout, "Be nice to your sister!"

For a fleeting moment, silence descends upon the house. But the blessed peace is short lived as the Doctor hears a chorus of snickers and giggles resonating down the hall. He pushed all of their beds into one room for the night, despite the fact that confined spaces always make the girls wind each other up, as siblings are wont to do. But when River is out with the TARDIS, he finds it easier to contain all the pre-teen hormones to one room, lest it spread like wildfire and surround him from all sides.

There’s another loud banging noise that sounds suspiciously like his middle child colliding face first into the wall. No grace, that one. But she’s only eight, so he holds out hope that she’ll grow out of it despite her striking resemblance to his previous self. With her thick brown hair and coordination to match, the Doctor isn’t entirely convinced that River didn’t take a joy ride after one of their fights and come back with more than just milk and eggs.

"Don't make me come in there!" the Doctor warns, his words going entirely unheeded. More ruckus ensues, followed by a series of giggles that sound an awful lot like defiance. With a resigned sigh, he hoists himself off the couch and heads down the hall to face his most perilous venture yet. Adolescent spawn.

"He's coming!" He hears his youngest whisper in voice that isn't nearly as subtle as she thinks it is. There's more hushed murmurs and frantic scrambling and by the time he gets to their door, the three little demons are innocently bundled up in their individual beds, biting back grins as they blink up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

The Doctor isn't fooled for a moment, eyeing the wee little terrors with suspicion before reaching for their bedroom light. “Sleep. Now,” he barks, gruff and authoritative.

Their little cherub faces fall in unison, a commutative, rather shrill whine permeating the room. “But Daaaaad,” they all complain and the Doctor pinches the bridge of his nose, grumbling to himself about how they never put up this much fuss for their mother.

"Because Mummy is scary," his middle daughter grins.

The Doctor eyes snap to her, narrowing them in a way he’s sure used to make monsters run for cover. "I'm scary! Check the eyebrows."

He continues to waggle said bushy brows until the girl squeaks and covers her face with the blankets. His eldest simply rolls her eyes in a way that’s so like her mother it’s almost charming. She’s all River, that one. Apart from Amy’s red hair, the girl’s all green eyes and sass. Ten going on twenty seven, she’s hell in a training bra.

"Now,” the Doctor instructs, reaching for the light switch. “Bed time. Or else."

“But Daddy!" his youngest whines, only five and she has him entirely wrapped around her finger. Has since the moment she was born, really. With her mother’s head full of riotous curls and his own blue eyes staring back at him, he never stood a chance. When she was a wee thing he used to lull her to sleep with the sound of his guitar. Even now it’s her favorite pastime. River says she’s just as grumpy and set in her ways as he is and as he listens to the girl complain in a decidedly Scottish drawl, the Doctor is rather inclined to agree. "You have to read us a spoiler first!"

“It's not called a spoiler, idiot. It's called a _story_." The oldest scoffs and folds her arms across her chest, her expression only softening when she feels the weight of her father’s glare, silently scolding her for name calling.

“Oh,” the littlest lass frowns. “What's a spoiler?”

“One of those things we’re not supposed to tell Daddy,” his middle child answers, and though she looks like his bandy legged self, there’s more Pond in her than anything else. She enjoys playing in the dirt like her mother and great grandfather, but moments like this, watching her quietly and effortlessly keep the peace, nothing reminds him more of Rory Williams. “Like that time Mummy took us on the raptor safari or nearly blew up the kettle and we had to blame it on a-“

“Shh!!" the oldest shouts, shooting her sister a reproachful stare. "Not in front of Dad!" 

The Doctor pinches the bridge of his nose, his blood pressure rising and what he’s sure is the thump of an impending aneurysm pulsing in his brain. The responsible thing to do would be to press them for information. But on the other hand, he _really_ doesn't want to know. "How's this for a story? Once upon a time there were three little Time Ladies who were going to learn the meaning of _grounded_ because they wouldn't Go. To. Sleep."

“But I can’t sleep,” the youngest complains, batting her lashes in a way that definitely doesn’t make his hearts swell. “I miss Mummy.”

“She’ll be back in the morning, little lamb,” he soothes her, but his smallest assassin is less than convinced.

"Can you read us one of her stories, Daddy? Mummy _always_ reads us a story from her book when she puts us to bed."

The Doctor purses his lips, looking to the eldest for confirmation. The ginger nods, despite her usual complaint that she's too old for things like bed time stories. Letting out a long, resigned sigh, the Doctor reaches for the blue book River keeps on the top of the shelf of the girl’s bookcase and takes a seat on the foot of his youngest daughter’s bed.

The curly headed creature practically bounces with excitement as she makes room for him to sit. "Read the one where she saves you.”

Gingerly, the Doctor opens the faded and time worn cover, the faintest twitch of a smile stealing across his lips as he stares down at the adventures of a mad, criminal archaeologist, a once imposing diary now turned into a book of children’s bed time stories.

"From the Cybermen?" he asks, flipping through the weathered pages.

The little menace shakes her head, riotous curls spilling over her face.

"The Zygons, then?"

“She means the funny one,” the doe eyed peace keeper clarifies, adjusting her gangly limbs beneath the covers and snuggling into her pillow.

A frown creases the Doctor’s brow. "The time with the hive of angry flying scorpions? Because let me tell you, those stings packed quite the wallop. I hallucinated for days."

“No,” she giggles. “The other one.”

"Oh, you mean when I was being held captive by the emperor of New China?"

"No, the _other_ , other one. The kissy one where she saves you like Sleeping Beauty." 

"We _always_ read that one,” the eldest moans before brightening, eyes lighting up with undeniable mischief. “What about the time with the giant, flesh eating plants?" 

The Doctor’s eyes widen, mildly scandalized that River would tell them that particularly gruesome tale. She must have edited out the part where it gobbled up half the invading army and picked its teeth with the bones. He hopes.

"I like the one where that tribe thought Mummy was a goddess," his wee little look alike chimes in and a secret smile claims the Doctor’s lips. Those are always his favorite, too.

“You’ll have to be more specific, lass,” he offers, tapping her foot through the duvet.

"The Arigetoli people,” the oldest clarifies, brushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. She’s so confident and sure and brilliant that it may as well be River he’s speaking to, lecturing him on the how’s and when’s and why’s of a planet they happened upon. “The place that thought head hair was a sign of wisdom."

"That's your mother for you,” the Doctor muses. “So smart normal hair just wouldn't suffice.” A few squeaky giggles stray from the mouths of his younger daughters and the Doctor swallows, eyes darting to each of them as he quietly pleads. “Don't tell her I said that." The eldest simply smirks, so he clears his throat, changing the subject quickly before one of them makes a note to use that comment against him. "How about the time the TARDIS nearly exploded? I saved mummy then."

His little ginger snorts. "Not how she tells it. _She_ says that she and Granddad did most of the hard work while you played about with a mop and a fez."

"She would," he grumbles before indignantly shutting the book. "How about I tell you a new one?"

"One not in mummy's book?" the youngest tiny voice squeaks, equal parts scandal and excitement.

“Nope,” the Doctor bites back a grin, one shoulder shrugging lightly. “Not yet anyway.”

“You mean like a spoiler?" The middle child's eyes go wide and when the Doctor nods, all three of them glow with eager anticipation.

“Exactly like a spoiler,” he confirms, tapping the side of his nose. “So you mustn't tell Mummy.” The girls share excited glances, nodding to each other over this new proposed allegiance with their father. When they finally come to a silent agreement, their keen eyes fall to him, waiting. The Doctor wets his lips, feeling almost as nervous as they are when he says, "Once upon a time-"

“I thought you said this was a spoiler. Only fairytales start with once upon a time." His youngest, and ever the skeptic, daughter interrupts, eyeing him knowingly.

For fear of being thought a traitor, the Doctor fights back a frown as best he can and patiently answers, "Fairytales are just spoilers that have already happened. Now hush. Once upon a time, there was a Thief." 

"I'm liking it already." His oldest daughter grins, brazen and shameless and so utterly like her mother that his hearts swell.

" _And_ ,” he stresses a bit more firmly, suppressing a smile as he pauses to ensure there will be no further interruption. “He was known throughout the galaxy for being careless and cruel."

“I thought this was going to be a good story," his middle daughter pouts, the furrow of her thin brow and the purse of her lips a picture of his previous self. The Doctor makes a mental note to have a conversation with River about self-control.

"It is," he scolds. "Now pay attention or I'm not going to finish." He arches a no-nonsense brow and it must still be a wee bit intimidating, even to these little terrors, because all three of their mouths snap shut. Interpreting their silence as surrender, the Doctor continues, “There was also a Princess.”

“Was she a beautiful princess?" His youngest can't help but add and the Doctor softens, unable to be irritated by such big, blue eyes and wild curls.

"The most beautiful Princess there ever was. And because of what she was, she was cursed, you see. But she wasn't like most princesses. She was confident and clever, and above all else, she valued her freedom. And so it was that such a Princess simply wouldn't tolerate being rescued by a Prince. So she took it upon herself to escape her fate and ran away to see the universe.”

The Doctor looks into the glistening, enraptured eyes of three equally capable Princesses and knows that somewhere along the way he must have done something right in his life. Only a universe that loved him would see fit to always surround him with such beautiful young women.

"One fateful day,” he continues, “When the Thief was feeling particularly lonely, he happened upon the Princess. For the Thief, this marked the first time he met her. However, the Princess had met him many times before. She knew him well and loved him deeply. She even told him of the adventures they would share. But the Thief was a stubborn fool who had become so accustomed to his vagabond ways that her affection frightened him. So even though he was left in awe of her beauty and her strength, he ran from her. He ran and left the beautiful Princess locked away in a Tower.”

“Did that make the Princess sad?” the gangly brunette pipes up and the corners of the Doctor’s wistful smile sag.

“I imagine it did, little lass.”

“Then why did he do it?” the eldest snaps as if she’s holding her father personally responsible.

Knowing that she ought to, all the Doctor can do is offer a half-hearted shrug. “Because he was scared.”

“Mummy says you should never run when you’re scared,” the youngest of the three quips with a firm nod and the Doctor’s loving eyes fall on her.

“That’s because Mummy is very wise.”

“Wiser than the Thief?”

“Definitely,” he chuckles. “But don’t tell her I said that.”

The youngest of the three grins up at him from the shelter of her duvet. Her front two teeth should be ripe for falling out within the next few days. He’s half way through sussing out what the currency exchange rate is for humanoid incisors and how much money he could get from the trolls on Dentium Seven when his eldest asks, “Then what did the Thief do?”

The Doctor clears his throat, looking back to his red headed first born and trying not to feel old at the reminder that she lost the last of her baby teeth last year. “He kept running, of course” the Doctor manages to answer. “And not just from the Princess, but from a great many things. Until one day, as it happens, his path crossed again with the mysterious Princess. She knew him, still, and cared for him more than he deserved, but this time he did not run from her. They lost themselves in a magical adventure filled with running and screaming and a little bit of flirting.”

The latter makes his youngest’s nose crinkle, but the older two beam at him in delight. They’re going to be trouble when they’re older, he can tell. Images of dating and _boys_ , and, knowing the eldest’s similarities to her mother, _cyborgs_ pop into his head. Suddenly the Doctor once again finds himself rather fond of River’s complete lack of remorse when it comes to shooting people.

Carrying on with the story, the Doctor keeps his voice low and merry. “This time when they parted, the lonely Thief found himself longing to see the beautiful Princess again. She was like nothing he’d ever seen before. She was a rare gem, a diamond, unique in all the universe and he wanted to make her his and keep her by his side, as most thieves often do. But the Princess would not be stolen, for she was far too strong a spirit; so instead, they ran _together_   through all of time and space. They saw galaxies form and watched civilizations wither. They ruled planets and saved lives, and slowly, without even realizing it, she saved him. The Thief was no longer frightened or stubborn or cruel. He was happy and hopeful and-"

"In love?" the eldest asks, and the Doctor is struck by the sudden urge to bop the little button nose he’s sure she stole from Amelia Pond.

Instead, he smiles wistfully and confesses, "Especially that. But one day, on one of their wonderful adventures, the Thief noticed something different about his Princess. She knew him, yes, but not as well as he knew her, and she loved him, but not as absolutely as he loved her. He realized, as she must have known all along, that they were going in different directions and that their days together were numbered. And so, though he longed for the days he would see his Princess, he knew that every time he did, she would know him less and less. Then came one terrible day, long before he was ready, when he found his Princess didn't know him at all. But he knew her. He knew every inch of her. So when he swooped in to take her away on another adventure, out of fear or anger, the Princess tried to kill the Thief. But he would never hold that against her because he knew that long ago, in her future, he would do something infinitely crueler."

"What did he do?" the middle daughter asks breathlessly, her little voice quiet but troubled.

"He trapped her in the Tower, remember? And he never went back see her."

"Why not?” she gapes, her chocolate eyes suddenly saddened. “Didn't he love the Princess?"

"Of _course_ ,” the Doctor stresses, his spine straightening and shoulders stiffening of their own accord. “But she was no ordinary Princess and it was no ordinary Tower. By putting her there, he ensured she would always be safe, but they could never be together again. His days with the Princess were spent, but in the Tower she remained, and whenever the Thief grew lonely he would circle the planet he knew she dwelled, phasing in and out, longing to be near her. But he knew he could never see her again."

"And then what did he do?" the youngest asks, her big blue eyes so wide and hopeful it almost hurts him to say-

"What makes you think he did anything?"

"Because that’s a terrible ending,” the eldest scoffs, tossing her red hair in a show of exasperation.

The Doctor merely shrugs. "Not all endings are happy ones."

“Then he should make a new ending,” the brunette declares firmly, miffed by his tale. “And never lock her in the Tower to begin with.”

“Can’t do that. It’s against the rules to rewrite time,” the Doctor reminds them, but the elder two seem unwilling to accept this, leveling him with incredulous frowns.

Luckily, his weeist lass chimes in, coming to his defense. “That’s right. Mummy told me that when I said I wanted to go back and eat my sweets twice. She said I can’t do that because sometimes when you rewrite time you wind up with a pair of ducks on your hands.”

“It’s called a _paradox_ ,” the eldest corrects, rolling her eyes again. “Not a pair of ducks.”

“Mummy’s right,” the Doctor nods. “Time travel is a tricky thing and if the Thief wasn’t careful, he could wind up never meeting the Princess at all.”

The middle daughter shifts in her seat, still unwilling to bend to the facts as she considers him. "Or maybe the story’s just not over."

“All stories end sometimes, lass.” He watches as their bright little faces fall, completely helpless as they take his hearts with them. Even the eldest, who claims to be too old for these types of stories has her eyes down cast, wringing their hands atop the sheets. The brunette has tucked herself beneath the duvet in protest and his curly headed youngster stares at him with wide, wet eyes. When he can take it no more, the Doctor lets out a long, relenting sigh. "What would you have him do?"

“He should go get her!” the clone of his eleventh self exclaims, gracelessly popping back up from beneath the blankets and sending the duvet flying. Her eyes are bright and her smile eager, like her explanation is the most obvious answer in the world.

The Doctor tuts, shaking his head. “Can’t. She’s stuck in the Tower.”

“But why?” Curious blue eyes blink up at him and the Doctor finds his usually blunt Scottish mouth struggling for words.

“Because… she just is.”

His eldest daughter huffs at his lack of explanation, simply stating, “That’s stupid.”

“Mum says there’s always a way out,” the peace keeper of the group seems to agree, folding her arms across her chest. The other two follow suit, united against him in a show of prepubescent defiance.

The Doctor sighs, eyes falling to his lap to watch as he toys with the ring on his left hand. “The Princess wouldn't like that, anyway,” he says softly, more to himself than his girls. “She likes to do things for herself.”

“That doesn't mean the Thief shouldn't try.” The youngest of the three nudges him through the covers. “All girls like to be rescued sometimes.”

“Yeah," his middle child lifts her thin brows knowingly. "What if she already knows how to rescue herself but she’s just waiting to see if the Thief will follow her there like he did everywhere else?”

The eldest confirms this with a nod. “She could be testing him.”

“Do girls do that?” the Doctor asks, suddenly wary, and when they all arch a brow and flash him a look they could have only learned from their mother, he concedes. “Alright, even if he did find a way to save her, then what?”

They all share that look again before turning their eyes on him like he’s nothing more than a daft old man. “They run,” the oldest volunteers easily, as if it’s the most obvious answer imaginable.

“Across all of time and space!” the middle daughter embellishes with a grin, flopping back against her pillows.

“And live happily ever after,” the littlest lass adds in a voice so quiet and sweet it feels like she's imparting a secret.

“Alright, alright,” the Doctor intervenes before the heathens can get any more carried away. They really are too clever for his own good. “Now that you’re done righting the universe’s wrongs, time for bed.”

The statement is met with a communal groan, the bottom lip of his gangly, dark haired daughter puckering as she begs, “One more story?”

“Pleeeeease, Daddy?” his youngest, who he foolishly thought was his ally, beams.

The Doctor sets his brow, one more whiny complaint away from employing his touch telepathy Dad Skills when he hears the eldest ask, “Yeah, Dad. Just one more?”

His eyes seek her out, finding her tender, hopeful smile far too endearing to ever turn down. Eyes flicking back to the other two, he crumbles like pasty under the weight of their batting lashes. “One more,” the Doctor declares. “And that’s final.”

….

Four stories and a guitar solo later, the wee little demons are finally fast asleep. The Doctor finds himself tip toeing across the carpeted floor, careful not to rouse them as he makes his way to the bedroom door and turns out the light.

“Dad,” a quiet voice breaks the silence and when he turns back around, he sees the green eyes of his eldest daughter, the one that's all her mother and entirely too smart for her own good, staring at him through the darkness. “Was that really a true fairytale?”

There’s a hint of sadness mingled with her curiosity and it makes the Doctor’s hearts ache as he steps back into the dark room and crouches beside his eldest daughter’s bed. "Better than that, wee one,” he promises, reassuring her by bopping her nose like he’d wanted to earlier. "It's archaeology."

A knowing smile curves the corner of her lips. “And the Thief," she questions. "Will he really find a way to save his Princess?”

“Do you think she would like that?” he whispers, and if his sharp features have softened to a near vulnerable state, well it’s probably too dark for her to notice.

“Well if _I_ was a Princess locked in an impenetrable Tower, I could think of no one better to rescue me than a legendary Thief. And if he truly loves her-“

“He does,” the Doctor interrupts and green eyes smile back at him.

“Then he should save her. The Princess didn’t ask to be locked in that Tower. The Thief put her there, so I think he should be the one to get her out.”

She nods like her words are resolute and the Doctor finds himself bobbing his head along with her, a smile tugging at his cheek. “So do I, little lass. He wouldn’t be a very good thief if he didn’t at least try, would he?”

“So he’ll find a way?” she presses eagerly, the spark of hope in her eyes brightening the dark room.

“Yes, I do believe he will,” he confesses the statement like a secret, but it must be satisfactory because the young girl smothers her yawn with a smile, snuggling further into the sheets. The Doctor brushes her hair from her face, leaning in to kiss her forehead as he murmurs, “Sweet dreams.”

She hums in response, her eyes already closed as the Doctor gets to his feet, his knees protesting as he stands upright. He turns around, making his way back through the darkness again. He’s almost reached the door when-

 “Oh, and Dad,” he hears a small voice call. “Make sure you wear a suit.”


End file.
